


We Keep this Love in a Photograph

by WeirdDaydreamingFangirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl/pseuds/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl
Summary: We keep this love in a photographWe made these memories for ourselvesWhere our eyes are never closingHearts are never brokenAnd time's forever frozen still-Photograph by Ed Sheeran





	We Keep this Love in a Photograph

**Author's Note:**

> This only vaguely inspired by the song and was only supposed to be a drabble because it took a life of its own and reached about 1,200+ words so I had to separate it from my drabbles. XD

Jaime got his wallet when he was seven.

It was made of red leather and had a golden lion engraved in it. Tywin had given it to remind his son of his legacy and his duty to it. Young Jaime had only been excited at the transparent slot that allowed him to put a small photograph. His pregnant mother happily provided him with a wallet sized photo of their family that they took on his and Cersei’s birthday. Joanna promised him that once little Tyrion was born, he would actually be there instead of her swollen belly.

When Joanna died, Jaime couldn’t bear replace the photo. Although they took a photo with Tyrion being quite literally in the picture, Jaime didn’t want to taint the memories of his mother being lifeless in the coffin. Instead, he’d asked a photo of Tyrion from one of the Lannister photographers and had an ID-sized print of a crop of his baby brother’s smiling face so he could see his all of his happy family in it. He would have asked his father to do it but Cersei told him that he hated Tyrion and so did she. Jaime didn’t understand why they thought such a small fragile baby would kill their mother. He didn’t deserve their coldness. Jaime didn’t care what they said. _Tyrion deserves a place in this family_ , he thought as he taped Tyrion’s face over their mother’s tummy.

Jaime’s hopes that the coldness in the house would pass slowly died out like a campfire in the middle of the Long Night. Tywin grew even more distant but Cersei and Tyrion craved for his love. All they had was Jaime, but they kept fighting for his attention. He didn’t see why they did that. He loved them both. When the hope he had for his father was smothered, he suddenly couldn’t stand the frayed but seemingly perfect picture of his family. One time his siblings had been fighting in the couch, Jaime flung himself and tackled his two frowning siblings. He’d asked a servant to take a photo. This covered the old family picture.

They’d known it was twisted but how could he not love his twin, his beautiful sister, his other half. She was his equal in every way. They were made for each other. Somehow, their father seemed to sense their unusual closeness and sent them to separate schools. This greatly frustrated him. He wanted to scream and curse his father. The fearsome Tywin Lannister, only ever interfering when you’re doing something that displeased him. Whenever they were apart, Jaime flipped his wallet open and took out a photo he took of Cersei sunbathing in a skimpy red bikini. To avoid suspicion in case nosy people snooped in his wallet, there was a photobombing Tyrion making a face at the camera. He’d place his thumb over his brother whenever he had needs to attend to.

Cersei had told him not to grow too close to the children and he did as she bid. Jaime just knew all three were his but they were no medieval Targaryen. His children would be outcasts. In truth, Jaime didn’t mind so much. _Fuck_ what society thought. But he had to think about the children. If he cannot be their father, the least he could do was guard their secret even from themselves. Still, he’d printed out that press photo of an article in a Lannister event. It was one photo where Robert wasn’t in. Although Tywin was in it, Jaime didn’t mind. As much of an asshole his father was, he was still family. Jaime bitterly smiled whenever his wallet showed him the seven golden heads and pairs of green eyes looking up at him.

 _Burn it all_ , Jaime thought as he dumped the photos one by one into the campfire. Three generations of Lannisters… Cersei in a bikini… all crumbling into ash. Cersei had betrayed him. She’d been fucking other men other than him. He felt used. She claimed she only fucked them to keep the company intact but he wondered if he was nothing but a means as well. A means to power. Just like those idiots who stuck their cock inside her. He hated Cersei. He came across another photo—young Jaime with his scowling siblings. He seethed at the sight of Tyrion. He was a traitor as well. He left the company to spite their father and sold their secrets to the rising Targaryen Industries, causing a shocking drop in stocks in the Lannister Corporation. Did he think about the family? Of Tommen and Myrcella (because Joffrey was a cunt) at least? He burned that photo with the rest. Jaime only ever wanted to give his siblings everything, but what had they done in return? The only photo he managed to save was the old one, the first one, the one his dead mother gave him. He wondered how different their life would be if his mother hadn’t died. Would they see Tywin smile? Would Tyrion get the love he should have had? Would Cersei be as cruel as she was? Would Jaime have been less stupid? He swiped the whole box of tissues from the ugly blonde counsellor he’d vehemently insulted since he saw her face in camp.

Over his old family photo, he placed a photo of his ‘graduation’ from Camp Maesterheart, a camp in the Riverlands where broken hearts seek for respite. Beside him was Brienne Tarth, the senior camp counsellor, handing him his ‘diploma’ with a scowl. He remembered how gently she had treated him, despite her obvious disdain for him. Whenever he felt his anger within him rise, he opened his wallet to remind him that it was okay to take care of yourself, too, and that there were still people in the world who were still good, even to a broken piece of shit such as himself.

For the first time, Jaime found himself truly smiling at his wallet. He and Brienne were taking a picture of a shirt they were trying to sell to raise money for orphanages and he tried to tiptoe to appear taller than her but was on the verge of falling as the photographer snapped the photo. He was doing charity that he spearheaded himself. Not by himself exactly. But with his best friend, Brienne, with her shining blue eyes and easy blushes.

He almost missed the timer as he kissed Brienne for the first time, but if he was honest, he didn’t even think he’d convince her to kiss in fifteen seconds.

Slowly, his wallet became filled with something different. Sapphires and freckles replaced gold and ivory. Even Jaime’s hair was becoming more and more silver with each passing year. Pictures came and went in his old wallet more often since he and Brienne started going out, but there were too many milestones that Jaime needed to look at whenever times were tough—Brienne clutching a table knife on their first date because of some asshole turning a deaf ear at their request to get his child to shut up, Jaime taking a selfie after they swam to shore because their canoe capsized on their first trip together, Brienne crying when he proposed to her at a medieval convention, their wedding, Brienne’s baby bump, their baby’s sonogram, their first baby…

On and on the memories came. Most of the pictures went in a special album where Jaime preserved and labeled each milestone he had with his life with Brienne but there had only been three permanent residents of Jaime’s faded wallet—the old and slightly singed Lannister family picture, the groufie Jaime took with Brienne, their four children, and the grandkids, and a picture of his and Brienne’s hands, clasped together, their wedding rings winking against their wrinkly hands.


End file.
